Wearing Masks
by Sobriety
Summary: Buffy is Faith, and Tara is the last person you'd ever expect. F/F Slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Wearing Masks (Part 1)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Tara seems to be a sweet, nice person. But what if she wasn't?

I'm gonna enjoy this. I mean, Jesus, I've got Buffy Summers' life. I've got her friends, her mom, her Watcher, her wardrobe. Hell, I've even got her charge cards. What's not to love?

So I'm kickin' back in the Bronze, wearin' the only pair of leather pants B's got and fixing to steer this new body round the curves before the night is out. Only now Red's showed up, and it turns out she ain't drivin' stick no more. The new squeeze is blonde and cute as all hell, but frightened out of her wits. Seems Red's picked a chick even more shy than her. How'd the two of 'em ever hook up?

"W-w-w-w-w . . ." the squeeze stutters at me, turning three different shades of red. Willow's up at the bar, so I let the Buffy act slip for just a moment.

"Come on, spit it out, I ain't got all night." Maybe those aren't my exact words, but close enough. I don't remember for sure 'cos what happened next freaked me out so much.

Blondie's expression changes in an instant. She's cool, collected, and giving me a goofball smile that I remember all to well.

"Tut tut, Faith." She says with a chuckle, "You'll never fool them for long if you don't watch your tongue a little better than that."

"Boss?" I manage a choked whisper. It feels like my eyes are poppin' out of my head.

"Miss me?" I can see him now, in her eyes. Makes me wonder if Red could pick that it was me, if she knew to look. "What? Did you think I wouldn't have a back-up plan? What sort of Mayor would I have been if I'd never thought about contingencies?"

It makes sense, I gotta admit. But -

"I didn't expect the tits, Boss."

He (she? Christ, what do I call it?) chuckles indulgently,

"It always pays to have a surprise up your sleeve, young lady. Now," the Boss leans forward, speaking quickly and urgently, "your little red-headed friend is quite taken with me. I've never really held with such things, but young people these days just feel a need to rebel, I guess."

I nod, not saying anything. The Boss is screwin' Red? That's just weird.

"Alas, an unfortunate accident will befall me tonight." The Boss smirks at this, so I guess this 'accident' is something he arranged, "And your friend is going to need comforting. For that, she's going to turn to Miss Buffy Summers."

"Yeah?" I say, with a nervous glance at Red. She's still waiting for her drink, so I guess we got a few seconds more to talk. "I'm pretty crappy at the heart to heart stuff, Boss . . ."

"Oh, I don't want you to help her." The Boss giggles at the idea, "I want her to feel rejected and alone. She's powerful, that girl. I can use her, with a little preparation. And once that's done, you and I can really raise a little hell in this town."

I want to say something, but I catch sight of Red headin' toward us. Time to go back to being B.

----------

Red spots a vamp just after she gets back. I go slay it, to stay in character, and the silly bitch whose life I save goes all grateful on me. It's a weird feeling. Not one I'm used to.

The Boss fakes a headache or some shit, and the two of them leave soon after. As she goes, Red says something about B's boyfriend. I was looking for a test drive, so I make use of the stud muffin. He's no great shakes in the sack, but it's a way to kill some time.

Afterward, he says he loves me, and I freak a little. I hate it when people say that, after the event. It's like it ain't enough for them to get some and get gone, they gotta turn it into this deep thing. And it ain't. It's just sex.

So I bail, headin' back for the Summers' house cos I still ain't got a clue where B lives at the college. Guess I shoulda done a bit more recon. But I never was much one for plannin'.

B's mom is a bit surprised to see me, but I've come up with a cover story on the way:

"I just wanted to stay here tonight to make sure you were okay. Just in case Faith got away from the cops . . ."

The poor bitch seems really pleased that I 'thought of her'. It figures. B's been neglecting her mother-daughter duties, again.

It took about an hour to pack Joyce off to bed, but once that was done, I made myself a stiff Jack and Coke, then took a seat by the phone. While I sit there and wait for Red to call, I sip the drink and do something that doesn't happen very often.

I think.

Fact of it is, I'm more than a little pissed off about the way the Boss has been playing me. What was with that 'you'll never survive without me' crap in the tape he left me? I got by just fine before I hooked up with the forces of darkness. It was only after I joined his team that I took an eight month nap. And what do I find when I wake up? He got whipped by B, same as every other wannabe demon-king.

Sure, he gave me the toy that let me steal B's life, but I'm bettin' he only did it to get me in place to help him with his plan for Red. And once he gets her, will he still need me? I gotta figure, if he wants Red, he has something specific in mind for her powers. Like maybe taking another shot at the Ascension.

We'll see. Maybe I'll help him, maybe I won't. The one thing I definitely will do is screw with Red's mind. She's got it coming.

----------

It's well after midnight when the call comes from Red. She's all but impossible to understand, she's so upset.

"Slow down, Will." I keep my tone cool, "What's the commotion about?"

"Tara's gone!" Red wails, her voice choked up from sobbing. "Some demons grabbed her! I tried to stop them, but I couldn't!"

I pull a face. Even though I don't need to be helpful, this sorta emotional shit always gets me jumpy.

"I woulda thought you'd take better care of your girlfriend." I muttered, just loud enough that Red would catch it.

"What?" she sounded shocked. Not surprisin', I guess. "Tara isn't -"

Yeah, right. There was no way I was going to bother arguing about whether or not the little blonde was bangin' Red or not. Though I guess they probably weren't, if the Boss had any control over things.

"Don't sweat it." I interrupted, "I'm just a bit tired. But what do you want me to do about it?"

"Well . . ." Red sounded confused, "You're the Slayer . . ."

"Yeah, Will." I tried not to let my smirk come through in my voice, "As in, I slay. I don't do the missing persons thing. If you can find me the demons, I'll slay 'em. But unless you can do that pronto, I'd say your little squeeze is demon-food."

"Tara isn't -" Red starts again, all sobbing and hurt and shit. I twist the knife.

"Don't give me that, Will." It's hard not to slip and call her 'Red', but I manage. "Tara had that whole 'Ellen' thing goin' on in a big way." I can't believe Red didn't see it. But then, B never saw that I wanted it from her, either.

"Is that why you're being so cruel?" By the sound of it, Willow is half way between bawling and goin' postal on me. "Are you really some kind of gay-basher?"

Don't ask me where the answer comes from, but it's outta my mouth before I can think.

"Hell, no." I snap, and if Red wasn't so screwed up she'd never think I was really B. "I'm just pissed that you ignored me for all this time, then took a walk down Gay Street with that little mouse."

I slam the phone down, then take it off the hook, figuring that ought to leave her so screwed up she can't even think.

I shoulda remembered that night in City Hall, when she stood up to every threat I could sling at her. It never pays to underestimate Willow Rosenberg.

----------

An hour later she's at the door, banging and shouting till Joyce gets up and lets her in. It takes balls to wander around Sunnydale in the middle of the night. I gotta give her that.

I stand at the top of the stairs, starin' down at her while Joyce gets her a towel. Sunnydale barely ever gets a drop of rain, but tonight it's pouring hard enough to make up for the last ten years. I wonder if the Boss; no, make that 'the Mayor'; is responsible for the drenching Red just got. I figure he probably is.

Red stalks up the stairs toward me, her jaw fixed and firm. Seems she's here to have it out with 'B'.

"You need to get out of those wet things, Willow." Joyce calls from the front door, "I'm sure Buffy can lend you some of her clothes."

"Thanks, Mrs Summers." Even pissed off as she is, Red remembers her manners. I turn and head back to B's room, knowing she will follow right behind.

----------

I figure Red will slam the door when she comes in the room, but at the last moment she closes it gently, then turns to glare at me.

"What's going on, Buffy?" she demands, water still dripping slowly from her hair and clothes.

"What do you mean?" I ask, like I don't know what she's talking about, "You should do like . . . Mom said, and put on some dry things, y'know."

For a moment Red looks like she's gonna refuse out of sheer blind anger, but then she nods stiffly and starts pullin' off her wet clothes. I watch casually, though I'm more than halfway enjoying the show. Red's filled out up top in the last eight months. Some things haven't changed, though. The bra and panties underneath her trendy, alternate gear are still Sears' specials, light pink and very modest. On Red, the look actually works.

"You should take those off, too." I suggest, grabbing a towel from the bathroom. "Wrap yourself in this or something."

"Thanks." She murmurs, her teeth chattering from cold. I guess she isn't used to weather like this. The Mayor liked to keep things pleasant around town, right down to making sure Sunnydale had sunny days.

Willow strips off and I put the towel around her shoulders, brushing her hair back as I do. I can't help but notice that 'Red' ain't, if ya get my drift. Of course, it's not like I can take a shot at her for that; not in the body I'm usin'.

I put my arms around her as she sits on the bed, feeling how tense she is under the towel. I always thought Willow felt more for B than she was letting on. The way she lets me hold her now tells me I was right.

"I'm sorry about earlier." It's way easier to apologise when you don't mean it, "I was just so upset. I always . . . wanted you, but I thought you were straight. Then I saw you with that girl, and I realised I'd wasted all this time without you."

"Tara and I -" she starts, but I've had enough of that tune, and I kiss her on the mouth, firm but gentle, letting her towel drop down as I do.

Red and Tara might not, but Red and I certainly do.

----------

I wake up the next morning to find Willow curled in my arms. She looks young and happy, asleep like that. Younger and happier than I ever remember feeling.

I stare at the window for a few moments. I don't remember it being open last night. Sitting up gently, I feel Red shift, murmuring softly as she does. A quick glances around confirms it. Red's clothes; and the towel I had her in; are gone. Joyce must have come in while we were asleep. No surprise, really; a check of the clock by B's bed shows it is well after nine.

Well, this mixes things up a bit. No way Joyce coulda thought Red and I were just good friends. The covers were down around our waists, and neither of us had a stitch on. I'm surprised she didn't scream and wake us both up, come to think of it.

I slide out of bed, slip on a robe, and head downstairs, leaving Willow to keep sleeping. I figure this scene will be easier if it's just Joyce and me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Wearing Masks (Part 2)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) has just seduced Willow. The next morning, she wakes to discover that Joyce may be aware of her "daughter's" new affair.

I walk into the kitchen, all ready to give a cheery, 'Morning, Mom!', but it ain't Joyce sitting at the counter, a glass of milk in hand.

"Boss." I pull up short, then tug the robe around me tighter. It's weird as hell talking to a guy when he looks like a 20 year old chick, "what're you doin' here?"

"Just checking up on my girl." he chuckles, leaving me wonderin' if he means me or Red, "you needn't worry, I worked a little hocus-pocus to make sure we won't be disturbed. I must say I'm a bit disappointed in my Faith. Finding you in the arms of the enemy was not what I expected when I came here this morning."

I shrug and go to the fridge to get a couple of oranges,

"She was ripe for the picking, Boss. You wouldn't have needed me at all, if you'd just banged her yourself."

He frowns,

"I don't hold with that sort of thing. You should know that." He shudders delicately, "It's not natural."

This from a guy who wanted to become a demon.

"Well, it's a part of who I am, Boss." It used to be easy to call him that. Now, I all but force the word out, reaching for a large kitchen knife as I do. "And now, when I dump her, she'll go to pieces nice and easy, just like you wanted."

Four quick cuts with the knife, and the two oranges are in quarters.

"I know you thought you were doing the right thing," he sounds annoyed, though he's trying to hide it, "but you need to stick to the plan, Faith."

"Yeah?" I turn, picking up a slice of orange as I do, "Just what is the plan, Boss? Because I'm a bit fuzzy on that. You never used to play it like this with me."

He gives me that goofball smile again, but I'm watching his eyes, not his lips. There's no warmth there, anymore.

"You're a mite testy this morning." His smile fades, "I told you the plan last time, Faith, and you spilled it to that little blonde bitch and her friends. I don't want to risk that again."

I drop the orange.

I spilled the plan to B? Yeah, maybe I did, but that was when I figured that the guy he hired had turned Angel to our side. I wasn't the only one who got played, that day. Anger boils through me. Anger at him for pretending he cared. Anger at me for believing it.

The knife flashes in the sun as it strikes him above the heart. I nearly drop it when I realise what I've done. But then I see the blood, and the pain, and instinct takes over.

The blade plunges into him again and again, feeling almost like it's out of my control. The Mayor falls from the stool, and I kneel over him, stabbing down, blind with anger.

I don't know who I hate more. Him, for trying to play me, or me, for not seeing it 'til now. I really thought he cared for me. I really did. And here he is, telling me it's my fault I took an eight-month nap. My fault B kicked his slimy demonic ass. My fault we killed Allan Finch. My fault that dad left. My fault. It's always my fault. Well, not this time, "Boss".

Finally, my rage clears a little, and I gasp for breath. It takes precision to kill someone quickly with a knife, and I was in no mood to be precise. The girl who lies beneath me; and I can see that it is her again, now; is bloodied and close to death but not yet there. Oddly, there's something that looks like gratitude in her eyes.

Trembling, I reach down and touch her lips, wanting to apologise, but not knowing how. She seems to realise what I mean, because she smiles slightly. Then, for a moment, something else swims into her eyes, and I know the Mayor is still in there, fighting to get free.

She grimaces, hissing through her teeth, and I see the light of both of them dim in her eyes.

It's only now that I remember to be grateful that in this body he wasn't invulnerable. For a second, I have to fight back nausea at what might have happened if he was.

----------

Once my head clears, I move fast. There's no way of knowing how long the Boss' spell will keep Red and Mrs S sleeping, so I drag the body out of the house and dump it in some bushes. It's a poor excuse for a hiding place, but I need to get the kitchen cleared up before anyone else comes down and wonders what the hell went on.

Blood turns out to be as big a son of a bitch to get off the floor as it is to get out of clothes, and I don't have time to soak it in bleach for an hour. Instead, I wipe it up as best I can with a series of cloths, then stuff the sodden rags down in the bottom of the bin.

I'm just sighing in relief when I hear footsteps on the stairs and spot the bloodied knife, still lying on the bench. Lunging across the kitchen, I swing open the back door and hurl the blade to the far end of the yard.

"Hi honey, are you going somewhere?"

I nearly jump out of my skin, but manage to get a shaky smile on my face before I turn.

"Hi, Mom. No, I uh, just wanted a breath of fresh air." Realising that some of the blood from the knife is still on my hands, I slip them into the pockets of the robe I'm wearing. "Besides, I'm not really dressed for wandering the town . . ."

"So I see." She raises an eyebrow, "Oranges? Not having cereal this morning?"

"I felt like a change." I offer, lamely. Still, she seems to buy it.

"So did you and Willow sort out whatever was wrong?" she asks casually, while starting to make a pot of coffee.

"Yeah." I nod, then try to think of something else to say, "Will stayed the night, actually."

"I know." Mrs S answers calmly, spooning coffee into the percolator. "When I woke up and saw the time, I went to wake you."

"Oh."

For a moment, I stand there, not sure what to say. Then I grin, weakly,

"Would you believe she didn't have any PJs?"

"Please, Buffy." She gives me a withering look, "Don't insult my intelligence." Her tone turns gentle, "I just hope you girls know what you're doing."

"Me too." I make it sound meek and Buffy-like, but down in my gut it's true enough. I just killed the goddamn Mayor of Sunnydale. After B already did it before. If he came back once, he might do it again, and he won't make the mistake of trusting me, next time. My stomach churns at the thought. The Mayor was evil in a way I could never be. An evil that takes generations to build. If he does come back; and if I know anything about my shitty life he will; then I'm gonna need every ounce of help I can get.

"I gotta go see Willow." I head for the stairs, glad my hands are still in the robe's pockets, so Mrs S can't see them trembling. "Tell her you know about us."

She lets me go without saying a word, which is better than I'd hoped for. Of course, the tough call now is what exactly to tell Red.

----------

"Hey, Will." I shook her gently by the shoulder. It looks like 'Mom' drew the covers up when she came into the room.

"Wha?" Red struggles out of sleep slowly, giving me a puzzled look before memories of last night visibly swarm into her mind.

"Morning, sleepy-head." I jibe, keeping my tone friendly. "Time to get up."

"What time is it?" she asked, sitting up and drawing the bedclothes guiltily up to her chin. I've seen these signs often enough to recognise them.

"Don't weird out on me, Red." The snap in my tone makes her look at me; startles her enough that she doesn't notice my slip.

"But . . ." her voice quivers, and she pauses, "What are we going to do, Buffy? We shouldn't have . . ."

"Why not?" I stroke her hair back. It's something I saw the werewolf do for her when she was upset. Normally, I'm no good at this tenderness shit, but I need Red's help, so I gotta make an effort. "I don't regret it."

"But . . . your mom . . ."

"Mom knows." I shrug, "she came in and saw us in bed together. She's five – fine with it." I catch myself just in time. "Not thrilled, or nothing, but she's coping."

Red still looks miserable,

"What about Tara?" she asks at last. I could kiss her. It's the opening I've been waiting for.

"Maybe it was just jealousy, Will." I pause, as if reluctant to continue, "But I got a real weird vibe from her. Like she was hiding something. And then, right after meeting me, she disappears. It's a bit suspicious. How much do you really know about this girl?"

"She didn't talk about her past much . . ." Red admits, looking scared but thoughtful all at once, "You really think she might have been hiding something?"

"I think we should check." I say, firmly. "I could be way off base, but we need to know."

I've never been good at lying, but all this is true, so I sell it pretty well. I do need to know. I just went Lizzie Borden on the mayor's back-up body. If he has another way of coming back, it's a safe bet my name is on his shit-list. Maybe Red can dig something up that'll give me an idea how much trouble I'm in this time.

"We need to get back to school." Willow lets the covers drop to her lap as she speaks, and I make no effort to conceal the fact that I'm checking her out. "My computer is there."

"Gotcha." I stand, shrugging out of the robe. As I do, I glimpse my reflection in the vanity mirror. Damn, B is a nice piece of ass.

"Buffy?"

I turn, surprised to find a very naked Willow almost nose to nose with me.

"Yeah?" I ask, my voice even huskier than normal.

She kisses me, her mouth warm and sweet, and I feel my smile grow as her lips part to let her tongue play against mine.

As I push Red gently onto the bed, I remember how I was feeling last night at the Bronze.

# I'm gonna enjoy this. I mean, Jesus, I've got Buffy Summers' life. I've got her friends, her mom, her Watcher, her wardrobe. Hell, I've even got her charge cards. What's not to love? #

I suppress the urge to laugh as Willow gasps from my touch. Being Buffy Summers is even better than I thought it would be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Wearing Masks (Part 3)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) has just seduced Willow and murdered the Mayor (who was hiding in Tara's body). But what of Buffy herself?

Being Faith is even worse than I thought it would be.

It was bad enough having the Council goons spitting on me. That I could deal with. It's not like I would expect anything better from them even if they had known who I really was.

But seeing that same fear and the distrust in Giles' eyes really hurts.

"Giles, it really is me." I'm close to pleading now, "If I were Faith, and I found you alone, why would I bother with this story? Wouldn't I just kill you?"

"If you're really Buffy -" He says slowly, and I'm so glad to hear him at least consider it, "- you'll be willing to let me tie you up."

"Giles, please . . . we don't have time for bondage games. Faith's out there in my body. She could be doing anything." I try to think of a way to persuade him, "Look, I can prove who I am! Remember when Ethan turned you into that demon and I realised it was you just from your eyes? C'mon, Giles . . . can't you see that it's me?"

I'm getting through to him. I can see it in his eyes.

"Look, how could I know that stuff if I was Faith?" I wheedle. Faith never wheedles. Giles should know that. "And when I found out about you and my mom having sex, I remember Mom thinking that you made love like a stevedore." A thought occurs to me. "What's a stevedore?"

Good going, Buffy. Asking that is something Faith would do.

"It's a person who loads and unloads ships." He answers vaguely. That's my Giles . . . factoid man. But I can see he's starting to believe me. Or at least admit it might be possible.

Then the TV catches my eye, and I raise my hand to stop him talking. Giles has the sound turned low, but Slayer hearing is a wonderful thing. There's a shot of one of Sunnydale's churches on the screen, with a young female reporter in the foreground.

"- witnesses say the gang of men appear to be wearing masks, or possibly to have deformed faces. It is unknown how many hostages they hold at this time."

"There's something going on at that church." I point at the TV, startling Giles. "It sounds like demons. I've got to check it out. While I'm gone, please call the others. Warn them to stay away from Faith . . . from me. Please, Giles." I turn to leave, not waiting for a reply.

"Buffy -" that one word stops me in my tracks, a huge smile coming to my face. Giles pauses, then speaks again. "Take care."

"Thanks, Giles. I will."

-----------

Riley is outside the church, talking to a policeman, and without thinking I rush up to hug him.

"I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Uh . . . thank you, miss." He sounds confused. He has a right. I can be so mentally challenged at times. "Do we know one another?"

"I'm -" I stop, realising that explanations will take too long, and drag him away from the cop, lowering my voice as I do. "What's the situation? The gang inside . . . they're some kind of demons, right?"

"Demons? How do -" he looks surprised, then I see comprehension in his eyes, and he takes a step back, his expression cold. "You're Faith, right?"

"No! Well, kinda." I really want to explain, but I don't have time. "Look, call Giles. He'll fill you in. How many of them are there?"

"Three." He takes another step back, obviously unsure what to do.

"Thanks." I run toward the church, hoping like hell that he'll call Giles. I don't want to come out of this to find myself with an entire Initiative team ready to bag me. I've been captured quite enough times for one weekend already.

Vampires and demons tend not to think about the details too much, so I hook round to the side entrance of the church. Sure enough, it's been left unguarded, and I slip inside quietly.

A daylight attack on a church isn't normal practice for vampires; which is who I find inside; and for a second I think that maybe Faith is here somewhere, orchestrating this. But then their leader starts talking about how 'He' has shown them not to fear God's house, and I realise that Adam must be behind this little incident. I really need a way to put him out of commission.

I come out of the shadows fast, staking one of the three vamps before they even know I'm there. The second goes down just as fast, while people start to run for the doors. The leader, however, is a bit tougher than the average. I don't know if the propaganda Adam has been feeding them has had some effect, or if I'm just not used to fighting in this body, but he manages to hurl me across three of the church pews.

I hit the ground hard, but roll and come to my feet ready for more. There's no warranty on this body, and I don't see any need to give it back in its original condition. The vampire comes at me, straight over the pews. It looks very dramatic, but it isn't all that smart: I duck under his lunge and help him on his way, sending him crashing against a wall.

Seconds later, he's dust, and I lean against the cool stone wall of the church. I hate this body. It feels big and slow and clumsy. I have no idea how Faith used to keep up with me. Sheer psychotic tendencies, I guess.

A quick look around confirms the place is empty, so I sneak out of the side door and head for Giles' place. I do my best to stay out of sight, just in case Riley didn't call Giles, or didn't believe him. I don't know what I'd do if Forrest and the others suddenly turned up, looking to party.

Actually, I do know. I just don't want to think about having to hurt them.

----------

Seeing fear and distrust from Giles was bad enough. Walking into a room full of those same, suspicious eyes is one of the worst experiences of my life.

Xander is there, Anya at his side. Both are standing as far from the door as they can, watching me carefully. I don't know how much Xander's told his girlfriend, but it looks like enough that even she is being cautious.

Riley's there, too. He has one of the Initiative's fancy zap-guns pointed at me, whilst Giles stands at the phone. As I slowly close the door behind me, he puts the handset down with a sigh.

"Ah, Buffy." He notices me and pushes his glasses up to rub his eyes. "I've contacted everyone I can. Your mother is on her way here, now."

"Willow?" I ask, taking a half-step forward. Riley's grip tenses on his gun, and I stop. Chalk up another thing I owe Faith for.

"Your mother said she left with . . . you, about ten minutes before I called. They were supposed to be going to your dorm room." Giles' tone is sombre, and I feel a squeeze of concern. "There's no answer there." Without looking away from me, he gently pushes Riley's gun to a safer angle.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but how do we know this is Buffy?" Xander sounds angry. My first instinct is to snap back, but I clamp down on it. Getting into a fight would be the Faith thing to do. "Giles says it is, but he bought Gwendolyn Post's story, too." He flicks a glance at Giles. "No offence, G-man."

"None taken." Giles says, dryly.

"She might be at Tara's." I suggest, silently cursing myself when I realise I never learned the other girl's phone number. Hell, I've never even met her. When did Willow and I stop telling each other stuff like that?

"I tried that number, too. No answer."

I flush in embarrassment when I realise that Giles, at least, is keeping up with Willow's life.

"Is anyone going to answer my question?" Xander's tone is still clipped, and I feel a small knot form in my stomach. It's suddenly occurred to me that he's seemed angry a lot, just lately, and I don't have a clue why.

"It's me, Xan." I match his gaze levelly, and say the first thing I can think of that I'm sure no-one would have ever told Faith. "You bought a bracelet for me when I tried out for cheerleading in High School."

Xander nods, slowly.

"Good enough." He reaches out to squeeze Anya's hand. "It's her."

Riley slowly places his gun on the table. I want to go over to him, but I'm afraid of how he will react. He looks away, then back at me.

"Can I talk to you, Buffy?" his expression is strained, and I wonder what's wrong. Something must be. "In private."

"Sure." I move into the corner of the room, and he comes over, standing close and speaking in little more than a whisper.

"When did . . . when did Faith and you . . . swap bodies?"

"Just after dusk last night." I'm surprised at the question, and answer it without thinking. Then I see his expression, and the breath goes out of me.

"Last night . . ." he stops, "She came to see me. I thought it was you, Buffy."

"You slept with her?" the shock makes me blurt the words out loud, and three heads whip around to look at us. Nice going, Buffy. I try to ignore the others, concentrating on Riley, feeling numb.

"I thought it was you." He repeats, dully.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I'm torn between agony and feeling nothing at all. Finally, I just nod, stiffly. Put another mark in Faith's tally.

----------

Five minutes later, mom arrives. I expect her to react like the others, but instead she hugs me without hesitation. I guess she's worked out the Slayer-Mom deal, by now. 'Weird' comes with the territory.

"I'm so glad you're okay, honey." She murmurs, brushing hair from my face. "I was so worried, this morning, when I thought you and Willow –" she breaks off suddenly.

"What about Willow?" I feel my heart clench. What if something has happened to her? Then I remember that mom last saw her leaving with Faith, so that can't be it.

"Buffy . . ." she stops, then steps closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. I get a creep of déjà vu up my back, and go instantly cold. Whatever this is, it's going to be bad news.

"I went into your room this morning to wake you." She says, quietly, "And Willow was sleeping in your bed."

"They had a sleep-over?" It's a ridiculous question, but my mind refuses to consider the alternative.

"She was naked, Buffy." Mom pauses, while I try to ignore the pounding in my head. "Honey, I have to know . . . are you and Willow . . . involved?"

I shake my head, unable to form the words to answer.

"I'm so glad." She hugs me tightly, "When I thought . . . I tried to be calm about it. I wanted to deal with it better than I did when I learned you were the Slayer. But it was hard. Oh, honey, I'm so glad."

Numbly, I let her hug me again, as I feel my world crumble even further. First Faith tried to take Angel, then Riley, and now Willow. One after another, she wants to rip them away from me.

I want to break down. To hug mom back and just burst into tears. But I don't. Because I've latched on to the one thought that will let me hang on.

After we swap back, I'm going to kill Faith. And I'm going to get it right, this time.


	4. Chapter 4

**Wearing Masks (Part 4)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) has seduced Willow and murdered the Mayor (who was in Tara's body). Unknown to her, Buffy is free, and has revenge on her mind.

The picnic was my idea.

Way I figure it, I must be going soft. We'd been back in the dorm room only twenty minutes when I started gettin' hungry. It was pushing on for eleven, and I hadn't eaten anything since early the night before. Even in B's body, my hunger turned out to be kinda vocal.

Red, who was sitting at the computer, calmly getting ready to hack into UC Sunnydale's records, twisted in her chair and gave me a shy smile.

"Someone sounds hungry."

"Yeah." I answered, as my stomach reminded me that I didn't even get to eat those two oranges, after what went down with the Mayor.

"Why don't you go get something at the coffee shop? They should be open by now. I can work here until you get back."

If I had the faintest clue where the coffee shop was, I'd do just that. But the experience of trailing along behind Willow, trying to pretend like I knew where 'our' dorm room was, still hung in my mind. Red's no dummy, and sooner or later she's gonna pick up that 'Buffy' is actin' a little odd. Gettin' lost while looking for the coffee shop ain't about to help matters.

"I got a better idea." I peer out the window. As usual, it's a bright, sunny day. A fact that reminds me uncomfortably of the mayor. "Why don't we go by the store, get some food, and eat out on the lawn?" At least I know where the store is.

"You mean like a picnic?" Red gives a bashful smile. "With me?"

Damn, she's cute when she pulls that 'shy rose' thing she has. When I first blew into town, I figured Red was my prime rival. Then it turned out B was so straight you could rule lines with her, and I ended up losing out to the walking corpse, instead.

"You see any other hot chicks in the room for me to picnic with?"

"Just you." She deadpans, then goes bright red. I laugh, then pull her toward the door. Just as we reach it, she stops and frowns.

"What's up?"

"Buffy . . . are we doing the right thing?"

I suppress a sigh. Emotional stuff sets me on edge. But I can't blow the question off. For one thing, I need Red's help too much. For another, Buffy would give her an answer. As for anything else . . . well, let's just leave it at that.

"This is about Tara, right?"

She nods,

"And Riley."

"Riley's out of the picture." I can answer that one easily enough. The boy has no imagination. "I'll tell him next time I see him."

"Are you sure?" Willow looks down, "He's our only contact within the Initiative, Buffy."

I'm glad Red's looking at the floor, 'cos I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm getting that familiar feelin'; the one that things in my life are way outta my control. So I do the same stupid thing I do every time that happens: I try to tough it out.

"When you feel something, you feel it." I squeeze her hand, "I don't feel anything for Riley." And that's the purest truth. "We'll get by without him, if we have to."

"And Tara?"

I pause, wonderin' what the hell to say to that. Finally, I clear my throat,

"If I'm right about her, you're better off with her outta the picture. If I'm not . . . she was probably dead before you even called me, last night." I try to soften my voice for the last part, but I don't know how good a job I do.

Slowly, Red nods, then looks up at me.

"But you don't think you're wrong, do you?"

"No." I admit, with the sincerity of someone who knows exactly how right they are.

"Okay." Red says in a small voice, then gives me a wobbly smile, "let's go picnic."

As we head out of the dorms, I'm feelin' pretty good. Buffy's off to England to face my just desserts, Red's obviously smitten, and I can even pretend to myself that the mayor might be out of the picture for good.

Yeah. I know. Stupid.

----------

I lean against a tree near the centre of the lawn, enjoying the feel of Red snuggled up against me. We could've gone for one of the tables near the path, but Willow wanted to sit on the grass. My ass is a little damp from giving in to her pouts over that, but the sun's baked off most of last night's rain, so it's not too wet. Besides, I'm feeling too good to be bitchin' about it. For one thing, I'm stuffed from the meal we just ate. For another, it turns out that shy little Willow knows a spell or two for falsifying ID. Who woulda thought it?

I grip the neck of one of the beers she bought and stifle a belch. It wouldn't do to belch. Not very Buffy-like. The thought forces me to stifle a giggle. Maybe drinking in this body wasn't such a hot idea. Four brews never used to affect me this much.

"Shouldn't you slow down with those beers, Buffy?" Red has been nursin' her first for nearly an hour, and pulling a face every time she takes a sip. She tilts her head up to look at me, her expression concerned. "Remember what happened last time."

To cover the fact that I have no idea what she's talking about, I lean down and kiss her. Her mouth tastes like beer, but sweeter. I could get used to this.

"I'll be careful." I hedge, and waggle the bottle casually. "Last one. I promise."

"Not much of a promise, since we only bought a six pack." She mock-grumbles. I blink, and check the empties beside me. Oops. Five brews, not four. Musta lost count. "Are you sure this is a good idea? I don't think we're supposed to drink alcohol here."

"Relax, Will. Ya gotta find the fun." That earns me a funny look, though I ain't sure why. "What I mean is, it's Sunday. There's no-one here to bitch at us, right?"

As if to prove me wrong, two guys come jogging across the lawn. One black, one white, both studly in the clean-cut way that B seems to dig these days. The black guy glances across at us just as I lean in to kiss Red again, and damn near trips over his own feet.

Willow has her eyes closed, so she doesn't see the two of them come to a halt, staring at us. Damn pervs. But we both hear a fragment of what the black guy says to his friend:

"-ing dyke-"

Willow opens her eyes in time to see the look on my face. She tries to grab my arm, but by then I'm already on my feet, walking toward the two guys. I ball my fists, my good mood gone.

"You got a problem, asshole?" I fling the words at the black guy, ignoring his friend. Muscle jocks, both of 'em. Probably gayer than I am.

"No problem, Buffy." The white guy says calmly, putting his hand on his buddy's arm.

"Yeah, we just hadn't heard you and Riley had broken up." I guess he should've put that hand on his buddy's mouth, instead. "Good to see you got over the heart-ache so quick, though."

I flatten the smart-mouth with a right hook, and glance to see if the white guy wants any trouble. He steps back, spreading his hands to show that he doesn't. I think about hitting him anyway, but figure it might be the booze talking.

"You should get your buddy to a doctor." I suggest, pointing at his unconscious friend. "I think I hit him a little harder'n I meant to."

He gives me a grim look and shoulders the body as I head back to Red. It isn't until I get under the shade of the tree that I realise she's pouring out the last of my beer onto the ground.

"Hey!" Dammit, I sound whiney. "That's m'beer."

"I think you've had enough." Red can look wicked determined when she wants to. "You're not acting like yourself, Buffy."

"What, them?" I gesture vaguely after the two guys, "They were assholes. Nobody talks about my girl like that."

Red blushes, but doesn't back down. The girl has stones, gotta give her that.

"Weren't they Riley's friends?" she sounds worried. After a second, it occurs to me that maybe I should be too. New body or not, I'm doin' the same stupid-ass things I always do. Red's no fool, and neither is the Watcher. I keep this up, and one of them is going to cotton on to me.

Then I look past Willow, across the lawn, and I realise that it's a little too late to start worrying.

----------

Even after a whole day to get used to my new look, it's wicked odd seeing my own body walking toward me. I should've realised that those Council idiots would never be able to hold a Slayer, even if it was just B. She's brought friends, too. Xander, Giles and the college boy are all with her, spread out in a line like the guys in that movie, "Tombstone". Coming with them is a smart move on her part. It'll help to convince Willow who she really is.

Letting me see her coming wasn't so clever.

Red hasn't noticed them yet, and I reach a hand up to gently caress the side of her neck, looking straight at B as I do. She slows, then stops, as do her stooges. We both know I could snap Willow's neck before any of them had a chance to stop me.

For a long, silent moment, we stand there. I see Red notice my stare, and start to turn. I know it's my chance. If I grab her round the neck, I can use her as a hostage and a shield. With Red's life on the line, B won't be able to try anything. I'd be able to walk out of here, then get the hell outta town, like I shoulda done in the first place.

Red sees B, squeaks in fear, and backs up against me, hard. In Buffy's body, I'm exactly the right height to look at her neck. The neck I should be grabbing.

"Shit." I mutter the word out loud, disgusted with myself. All I have to do is play the hard-assed bitch one more time, and I can walk away. But I'm remembering the way that girl looked at me last night. The way Red's been looking at me all day. The look that says they think you're something special.

And suddenly, I'm tired of it all. Too tired to add another lousy, screwed-up act to my lousy, screwed-up life. Twelve months too late, I'm gonna take B's advice and stop runnin' away every time I foul something up. Don't get me wrong, I ain't going all Mother Theresa all of a sudden; I'm just tired. And, fun though this body is, I want it to be me in the mirror when my number finally comes up.

"F-faith." Willow stammers at last, still staring at the others.

"Actually, that's B." I pitch the words just loud enough for Red to hear, and she freezes instantly. It's a long, silent second, before she turns to look at me. Her face is whiter than I've ever seen it, and there's a look in her eyes like she just wants to die. I give her a crooked smile, trying to ignore that it hurts to do it.

"Sorry, Red."

For a second, I could swear she's about to hit me. But instead, she slowly walks backward, her horrified eyes still locked with mine. Immediately, B and her lackeys are moving toward us, but I don't look away.

"Red . . . Willow . . ." my voice is even more hoarse than usual as I start to talk in a rush, "I know you've got no reason to trust me, but I meant what I said about Tara. Find out what she was up to. All our lives could -"

Then my own fist knocks me cold.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wearing Masks (Part 5)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) has been captured by the Scoobies, after seducing Willow and killing Tara (in whose body the Mayor was hiding). As the gang searches for a way to switch the Slayers back, Willow reflects.

It's been three hours, and Buffy still hasn't said a word to me.

Not that I blame her. I guess, if I came back to find out that my best friend was sleeping with my worst enemy, because she thought she was me, I'd be pretty freaked out, too.

Did that sentence make any sense?

I've been best friends with Buffy for close to four years. Even though things haven't been so close between us in the last few weeks, I should have seen that something was wrong with her. Faith made plenty of mistakes, after all. So why didn't I?

Can I even admit it to myself? I'm so ashamed.

I was scared, I was tired, and as I sat in Buffy's room listening to 'her' tell me she wanted me, I just wanted to believe it too much. I know I should I have fought to go find Tara. I know I should have seen that something was wrong. I know. I know.

I just didn't want to.

It was so much easier to believe.

To believe that my best friend loved me. To believe that anyone loved me. When Oz left, there was a hole in me that Tara had only just begun to re-fill. I knew I wanted to love her, but sometimes she didn't seem like she wanted that. And then to have 'Buffy' say that she wanted me. I never stopped to ask how that could be, when she had always been dating Riley; or Parker; or Angel. I never stopped to think, at all. Instead, I did the most selfish thing I've ever done.

Because I wanted to believe someone loved me.

Even now, a part of me thinks back to what Faith said when I found out. A part of me wants to believe that she meant it when she said she was sorry. A part of me wants to believe she genuinely thinks Tara is a danger. A part of me wants to believe that what I thought she was feeling for me was real.

But that's the part of me that caused this. The part of me that betrayed Buffy. The part of me that I refuse to listen to again.

So I put aside the things that I want, and the concern I feel for Tara, and I focus myself on finding out how to help switch them back. I can never make up for what I've done to Buffy, but I will do everything I can to show her how sorry I am.

Normally, I would start my research with Giles, but he's holding Faith in his apartment, until we can reverse the body-swap and hand her back to the Council. And I just can't face her. So instead I turn to the next best library I know.

I go to Tara's room.

The door is locked, but all it takes to get in is a simple spell. I always hoped she would give me a key, but I never had the courage to ask. There were times when she seemed to prefer to be alone. Faith's words flare in my memory, but I force them down. There is nothing suspicious in sometimes wanting some privacy.

Nothing at all.

----------

An hour later, my world collapses again.

I read the page in front of me for a third time, the letters blurring as I fight back tears of shock and grief. One of the first things I asked Tara was if she knew a way to help Amy. The answer was no.

I tell myself that she could have not known about this spell. That it would be possible for her to have forgotten or missed it during her research. That this isn't proof of anything. But the words don't have any impact, and they keep getting drowned out by Faith, talking in Buffy's voice.

# "I meant what I said about Tara. Find out what she was up to. All our lives could -" #

All our lives could what? Could be in danger? Could depend on it? How would Faith know if Tara was hiding something? Why would she care? And why would it affect her?

I draw a deep breath, fighting down nausea. The spell is simple enough, and I have all of the ingredients here with me. I read the words carefully, overcoming my fear with the familiar ritual of study. I recognise elements from a dozen spells I already tried, plus one or two new ideas. But I don't know if I can bring myself to try it. If it works . . . what would it mean about Tara?

I stare blindly at the words, feeling my guilt turn on itself, pulling me first one way, then the other. I start to pace, arguing out loud to myself, barely conscious of what I'm doing.

I should wait until Buffy is back in her body to cast the spell.

I can't leave Amy like she is, not when I know I can help her.

I should focus on Buffy. I need to help her. I have to help her, after what I've done.

Amy was a witch. She could help us restore Buffy's body.

Amy's been a rat for over a year, she can wait a few more days.

If Tara is . . . not what she seems, we need to know. Amy might have seen something.

What, whilst she was a rat?

Yeah, why not?

I stop, suddenly aware how crazy I would look if anyone could see me. For a long moment I stare at the words of the spell. I saw Tara use this book dozens of times. She used it just a few days for a conjuration. There is no way she didn't know about the spell. The realisation makes me nauseous.

I have to bring Amy back. If Tara . . . if Faith was right about her, I'm going to need help. But I have to know why Faith did and said what she did, first. I don't know how I can face it, but I know I've only got one option.

I have to go see her.

----------

"Willow." Giles steps aside to let me in, then closes the door behind me. Normally, I would've walked in without bothering to knock, but I didn't know if I would be welcome, now.

"Is Buffy here?" I don't really think she will be, but I have to be sure.

"No. I'm not sure if you would be wise for you to see her at the mo-"

"I'm not looking for her." Giles looks surprised. Either because of my answer, or because I was rude enough to interrupt him. I'm not sure which. "I need to see Faith."

"Faith?" he looks confused, "Is that wise?"

I shrug. That's not a question I can answer. Instead, I lift up the cage I'm carrying. Amy chitters at Giles, scampering in her cage. She doesn't like being carried around.

"I found a spell to de-rat Amy while I was trying to find something to help Buffy." I pause, "Tara's missing, so I could really use Amy's help with the research. With what her Mom did to her in High School, she may be our best chance. But I need something from Faith to cast the spell."

"From Faith?"

"Blood. Just a couple of drops. The spell calls for 'vital fluid from a creature of power'."

I came up with this story while I was on my over. It feels wrong to lie to Giles, but I can't admit what Tara and I nearly were, and what she might have been. So I follow my prepared explanation and do my best to sound convincing.

"Meaning demon's blood."

"Slayer blood will work, too." I say this so confidently that Giles takes off his glasses and gives me a disapproving stare, forcing me to come up with an explanation. "We, uh, did some experimentation. Nothing dangerous."

He sighs and gestures upstairs,

"She's in the spare room. Come along."

I've seen Giles' spare room only a few times before. He keeps his most powerful books here; the ones I'm not supposed to read; under lock and key. Now, he's moved one of the chairs up here from the main room, and stuck a little black and white TV on a small table. Only Giles could still own a black and white TV.

Faith is slumped in the chair, watching the flickering picture on the television. She turns her head slightly to look at us, but doesn't speak. I can see that her wrists and ankles are tied to the chair. The rope seems rather thin, to me.

"Don't worry, Red." Her voice, even from Buffy's mouth, is so recognisable that I wonder how I fooled myself into not seeing who she was. "Giles has me pumped full of some wicked blue crap. Makes me weak. Right now, even Xander could kick my ass."

I glance at Giles, surprised and not a little queasy. I know what the 'blue crap' has to be. After what he went through during the Cruciamentum, I'm surprised he could bring himself to do it. He catches my glance, and looks as uncomfortable as I feel.

"Buffy insisted." His tone is almost apologetic. I'm not sure who the apology is for. Does he think I feel something for Faith? Either way, the answer upsets me even more. I knew Buffy hated Faith, but I never dreamed she would inflict this on her. Not after what she went through.

"Can I speak to Faith alone?"

Giles looks uncertain.

"It's probably not wise for anyone to be alone with her –"

"You were." I begin to object, then the truth hits me. "Oh God. You think I might try to help her, don't you?"

"Buffy –"

"Buffy?" I didn't think it could get any worse, but it has. "Buffy thinks I would . . ." I can't finish the sentence.

"I'm sure it would be fine for me to wait outside." Giles pats me gently on the shoulder. I barely notice, but the small part of me that does is grateful to him for leaving.

As the door closes softly, I turn to look at Faith, Amy's cage still hanging from my hand. I have no idea how to ask her . . . how to ask her anything. I've spent so much time hating Faith that I expected to feel anger when I saw her again. But I don't. I just feel empty.

Finally, it is Faith who speaks,

"So what's up, Red? You bring me a pet, or something?"

That cocky grin of hers is back, but the voice . . . the voice is as tired and empty as I feel. Ignoring her remark, I set the cage on the floor, then turn off the TV.

"Why?" I choke it out at last, not looking at her as I ask.

"Why what?" she quips, then sighs. She knows what I'm asking. "At first, because I knew it would screw you up as much as B. I can't say I never meant to hurt ya, because I did. But later . . ."

It's not the answer I wanted. Not at all. I want her to be her old self. Smiling and snarling and telling me how much she hates me. It might make the pain stop.

"Let me guess." I turn, "It made you feel smart, right? Clever? Pulling the wool over little old Red's eyes? That the way you felt, Faith?"

"Yeah. Sure." The flint is back in her eyes. I was right. It does make it easier. "That's exactly what I felt. Payback's a bitch, ain't it, Red?"

"I need some of your blood." I blurt out my cover story because I can't think clearly enough to say anything else.

"Okay."

My surprise must have shown, because she shrugs.

"Not much I could do to stop you, even if I wanted. Besides, my ass is on the line as much as yours. I'm not rapt to be the Council's next science project, but it beats bein' dead. What's the blood for, anyway?"

"A spell." I answer shortly, and grab her thumb, using a paring knife to cut Faith's skin. She hisses softly as I squeeze, collecting several drops of her blood in a small bowl. "Stop being such a baby." I needed to do this, anyway, so Giles wouldn't know why I really came here.

"You gonna kiss it better?" I snap my head up at the question, and she leans forward, her lips meeting mine. For a moment, I'm too surprised to react. Then I pull back.

"Still playing your game, Faith?"

"Ya could say that, Red." She laughs, and it's pure Faith, whatever she might look like. "I killed Tara this morning. Gutted her in B's kitchen. Thought I should tell you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Wearing Masks (Part 6)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) has been captured by the Scoobies, after seducing Willow and killing Tara (in whose body the Mayor was hiding). As Willow searches for a way to switch the Slayers back, Faith seems determined to hurt her.

"Let me guess." Willow turns, "It made you feel smart, right? Clever? Pulling the wool over little old Red's eyes? That the way you felt, Faith?"

I've spent most of the last two years hating Willow Rosenberg. She was the first to resent me coming to Sunnydale; the first to tell me I wasn't wanted. Nine months ago, she faced me down and told me my life was ruined. In the last two days, I've paid it all back with interest. I've destroyed her friendships, left her alone and afraid.

Now, I want to tell her I'm sorry. It's a hard word to force out, but I'm ready to do it. And then I see the look in her eyes. I see the fear. The confusion. I see what she needs. And despite how much it hurts, I give it to her.

"Yeah. Sure." I growl, my voice cold, watching the way her face eases slightly as I do so. "That's exactly what I felt. Payback's a bitch, ain't it, Red?"

"I need some of your blood." She says, from out of left field.

"Okay." I agree without thinking. She looks surprised, and I rush to cover it.

"Not much I could do to stop you, even if I wanted. Besides, my ass is on the line as much as yours. I'm not thrilled to be the Council's next science project, but it beats bein' dead. What's the blood for, anyway?"

"A spell." she answers shortly, and grabs my thumb, using a knife to cut my skin. I hiss softly as she squeezes, collecting some of my blood in a small bowl. "Stop being such a baby."

"You gonna kiss it better?" She snaps her head up at my soft question, and I lean forward, pressing my lips to hers. Kissing her one last time. Kissing her goodbye.

She pulls back.

"Still playing your game, Faith?"

"Ya could say that, Red." I laugh, doing my best to sound like the psycho she's often said I am. She needs this. She needs me to be the bitch. It's the only way she can hate me enough to move on. The only way she can claim her life and her friends back. "I killed Tara this morning. Gutted her in B's kitchen. Thought I should tell you."

I watch the pain and rage contort her face. It makes my chest tight. I don't want to hurt her. I don't. But she has to hate me. She has to. It's the only way B will ever forgive her.

I took Willow's life away. I'll do anything I can to give it back. Even make her hate me again.

For a second, she's right on the edge of killing me. No lie. You think I wouldn't recognise that look when I saw it? She half lifts the knife, like she's going to cut me, and I flinch. It ain't my proudest moment, but it may be the one that saves my ass, because Willow sees it.

She frowns, the point of the knife lowering slightly, then glances at the room's closed door.

"How'd she get away from the demons?"

I guess I look blank, 'cause she turns to face me, and repeats the question.

"The demons, Faith. Remember, the ones who abducted her? How did she get away from them?"

"She gave 'em the slip, I guess." I realise how lame that sounds, and try to cover it. "You just can't get good help on the Dark Side, any more." Dammit, I'm built for slaying vamps, not matchin' wits with Willow Rosenberg.

"Who are you, Faith?" she asks suddenly, a look on her face like she's almost sad, "Do you even know, anymore? You came to Sunnydale as our friend, but became our enemy. Now you're back, and even you don't seem to know which you are. Last night . . . today . . . you called me 'your girl'. Now, you try to hurt me, again. Why?"

I can't even look at her, let alone reply, 'cause I'm afraid she'll see the answer in my face. Because somewhere in the night I forgot to keep hating her, and that hurts more than I ever thought it could. I swore I wouldn't go through this again. Not after B. But here I am, falling for a girl who would never be with me.

She kneels in front of me, forcing my head up, lookin' me in the eyes. I try to fight her, but right now, she's stronger. That feels . .. . I don't wanna think about how that feels.

"Why are you here?" Willow asks, her voice soft.

"That's what I was going to ask." B's voice is hard, angry, and coming from the doorway.

Damn.

----------

I know that the question isn't for me, and I know Red knows it, too. I see the flash of pain in her eyes, clear as day. The smart thing to do would be to keep my head down and shut the hell up.

But since when have I ever done the smart thing?

"Y'know how it is, B." I deliberately keep my voice light and taunting, "You spend eight months in a coma, you just gotta stretch your legs a bit when you wake up."

"Shut up, Faith." B barely gives me a glance, "What are you doing here, Willow?"

Red looks flustered, opens her mouth to say something, closes it again. Looks away, guiltily. What's up with that? She was just here to get some of my blood for a spell.

Or was she? The thought freezes me in place, and I look up, meeting a glance that Red flicks my way. I see . . . something . . . in her eyes. Something I can't give a name.

"Well?" B's voice grows harder, more insistent.

Screw it. I was never gonna get out of this intact, anyway. Might as well go down fightin' the good fight. The thought makes me snort with laughter, and I find two pairs of eyes on me: one set hard and angry, the others soft and sad.

"You just don't get it, do ya, B?" I let my mouth curl in a satisfied smirk, "So wrapped up in your own little world, you don't see your friends'. Little Miss Slayer, struggling under the burden of her great responsibility." I up the sarcasm to 'ten'. "Woe is me, I have super powers."

I know: glass houses and all that crap. I'm too pissed to care.

"Faith . . ." B takes a step toward me, fists clenched. "If you don't shut up."

"Well, at least now you're threatening the right person." I grin, and she pulls up short. The look of surprise on her face makes me laugh again. "Ever since you saw Red with me you've been obsessed with how much it hurt you, haven't you? You never gave a thought to how it felt for her." I nod in Willow's direction.

"She chose to be with you."

"Oh, get over yourself, you self-absorbed little bitch." I'm in full flight now, "All the time Red was with me, she was loving you. And while we're talkin' about this, has Beefstick shared his little indiscretion with you?"

I see Red's eyes go wide as B gets a guilty look on her face. Well, there's a surprise. He told her.

"You know, don't you?" I snort. "So it's okay for the college stud to get a piece, but not for Red? She not good enough for you? Or just too good for me?"

For a moment, they both stand there, staring at me with identical looks of shock on their faces. It'd be funny if it wasn't so ridiculous. I slump back in the chair, suddenly feeling drained. Guess that drug must be hitting me harder than I thought.

"I think you'd better leave, Willow." B's voice is quiet and just a little dangerous. Belatedly, I start to worry about my own skin. Getting' B angry whilst I'm tied up and powerless probably wasn't one of the best ideas I ever had.

For a moment, it looks like Willow might refuse. She can't afford to do that.

"Go on, Red. I'll be fine." I don't really think she's worried about my safety; expect her to tell me so, in fact. But she just nods slowly, then leaves. I can't help but watch her go. I'm an idiot. I gotta stop letting myself think she cares.

And maybe she's gotta stop thinking she does, too.

"It's never enough for you, is it Faith?" B starts talking only after Willow has closed the door, "You're still trying to wreck my life, even now. Still trying to steal my friend."

"I'm not stealing her. You're pushing her away."

That answer actually seems to rock her. She flushes, clenches her fists. I guess there's some guilty feelings there, after all.

"I'll be so glad when the next Slayer is called." The words are muttered, but I hear 'em.

"So you gonna do me, B? That your plan?" I can hear the brittle edge of my bravado: can she?

To my surprise, she looks away. I go cold.

"The Council." I chuckle, hiding how empty I feel. "They figure on killing me, don't they? You know they do, and you're still going to hand me over. Let them do what you want to, without needing to get your own hands dirty." Anger is filling the emptiness, now. It feels good: an old friend. "You're a real piece of work, you know that, B?"

She tries to look me in the eye, but can't. Instead, she shrugs silently, and leaves the room.

After a few seconds, my anger seeps away, and I feel myself crumble. Tears stain my cheeks as I fight down the urge to vomit. It's really going to happen.

I'm going to die.

----------

A couple of minutes later, the door opens. I figure it's Buffy, and keep my head down, not wanting her to see I've been crying.

"Faith?"

Willow's voice, soft and almost concerned. The last thing I expected to hear.

I want to tell her to go away, but I can't. Instead, I lift my head, meeting her eyes. They're puffy and red, her skin flushed.

"You've been crying." She sounds surprised.

"You too."

"Buffy doesn't trust me anymore."

She sounds so lost, so empty. I swallow, close my eyes briefly as I try to get some control.

"Red . . . Willow . . ." It's even harder than I thought it would be. "I've been thinking about what you asked me. About who I am and why I'm here. And you're right, I don't know anymore."

She nods slowly, but doesn't speak. I smile, weakly.

"But I do know who Tara was. And I need to tell you. You won't like it, and I wish . . . I wish it wasn't true. But it is." I don't want to look at her. Don't want to see the way this will hurt. But I have to. She has to see that it's true.

"When the Mayor was preparing for the Ascension, he made back-up plans, in case things went wrong. One of them was the thing that let B and I switch bodies." I pause as she nods, "Another was making sure he had an escape plan."

"He's alive?" she sounds horrified, and I don't blame her. It's going to get worse.

"Willow . . . he was Tara."

She freezes, then shakes her head angrily, turning to leave.

"Talk about stupid. I really thought you were going to help me. And instead, you're still playing your games."

"It's true, Willow. That was why I killed her."

She turns back, angry and hostile, but something in my expression gets through.

"You really killed her."

I nod, slowly.

"In B's kitchen, just like I said. There . . . there was a girl in Tara who loved you, Willow . . . but there was also the Mayor. I don't know how he did it, but he was in her body as well. I know you have no reason to believe me. I know I've done nothing to earn your trust . . . but this is the truth. The Mayor used some sort of magic to hide in Tara's body, and he probably managed to move to a new body when I killed her."

"I think need to sit down."

"I'd offer you my chair, but . . ." I yank at the rope trying me with an apologetic expression, and am rewarded by the slightest hint of a smile. It's not much, but I'll take it.

"I don't understand." She comes up to the chair, kneels so that she can look at my face more closely. "Why did you kill the Mayor?"

I sigh, almost laugh.

"Because I'm an idiot. Because I finally learned that I was just a tool to him."

"A tool?" Willow frowns, shakes her head, "He felt something for you, Faith. It was because he did that Buffy was able to kill him."

For a second, I'm going to laugh. Then I feel ill, realising that it makes a sick kind of sense. If the Mayor lost at the Ascension because of what he felt for me, is it any surprise he was angry when I seemed to be blowing his plans for Willow?

"Why tell me that?" I ask her, confused. "Why tell me something that might make me turn on you, again?"

She lowers her eyes for a moment, then looks up at me again.

"Because it's the truth, Faith. Because you need to know the truth if you are going to decide who you really are." Her hand reaches up to brush back a strand of my hair, "Because you need to know that someone can feel something for you."

I don't answer that. I can't. For a long time, we sit together, silently. Eventually, I find my voice.

"Willow?"

"Yes?"

"The Mayor . . . it's you he wants. I don't know why, but he does. Be careful."

"I will." She stands, picks up the cage with the rat in it. "I have to go . . . try to find a way to swap you and Buffy back. I just wanted to ask first . . . what are you going to do when this is over?"

"Do?" I twist my mouth in a wry smirk, "I'm going to die, Willow. If the Mayor doesn't get me, the Council will."

"Buffy would never –" Willow breaks off, a look of horror crossing her face, "Oh God . . . she would, wouldn't she?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Wearing Masks (Part 7)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) has been captured by the Scoobies, after seducing Willow and killing Tara (in whose body the Mayor was hiding). Now she faces death on two fronts: the Mayor and the Council.

Willow left the TV off when she went, and I don't bother calling for Giles to turn it back on. Instead, I try to doze in the chair. It doesn't really work: being tied up makes it kinda hard to get into a comfortable position. Still, it manages to kill the three hours that go by before the door opens again.

"Time for your medicine, Faith." It's Xander, and he's got a syringe full of that blue crap Giles has been pumping into me.

"They got you on baby-sitting detail now, Harris?" I smirk, "I guess it's a step up from getting your ass kicked every time you try to 'help'. They sent you out for doughnuts, yet?"

"Laugh it up, Faith." He answers my smirk with one of his own. "Buffy's gonna bury you for what you did, this time."

"I know." I shrug, "Do something for me?"

"Hmm . . ." he pretends to think about it. "No."

"Don't let her bury Willow, too." I ignore his reply.

"Nice try, but your Jedi mind tricks won't work on me." Xander brandishes the syringe like a lightsaber.

"I mean it."

He pauses in the middle of bending down to give me the injection, looks at me silently. After a few moments, I shrug uncomfortably.

"What?"

"Just wondering why you care." His voice is quiet.

I laugh, even though it isn't funny.

"Me too, Xander."

He finishes giving me the injection and leaves, flicking on the TV as he goes.

I hope he helps Willow. I don't know why I care . . . but I do.

----------

I'm still a bit light-headed from the drug when Xander and college boy carry me downstairs. It woulda been much easier to untie me and let me walk down, but seems like no-one is willing to trust me that far.

"I tell ya, stud." I quip at the college boy as he bangs an elbow on the wall, "A girl could get used to this kind of treatment."

That earns me a sour look from the Beefstick, but a short smirk from Xander. The quickly smothered grin gives me hope that he'll back Willow with Buffy. Someone needs to, and B ain't exactly in the mood to listen to me.

Eventually, they get me to the living room. Looks like the gang's all here: Giles is beside B, giving her the injection I've come to know and loathe. Xander's girl has already grabbed a chair, while Red's standing near the front door, talking to a chick I haven't seen before.

"Amy!" Xander yelps, nearly dropping the chair.

"Xander!" College boy and I yelp in unison, then glare at one another.

"Sorry." Harris sets me down carefully, then bounds over to hug Willow and the new girl. That earns him a glower from his girlfriend, but he's oblivious to it. "How's my favourite ex-rat?"

I blink at that, and I'm not the only one: college boy looks as out of the loop as me. I give the newcomer a once-over, remembering the rat Willow was cartin' around earlier today. She's quite pretty, with light brown hair. Her return hug to Xander is a little shy, but the laugh that accompanies it is genuine.

"Apart from a craving for cheese, I'm good." She does a double take when she sees me, then glances at B, but doesn't say anything. I guess if you've been a rat, body-swapping doesn't seem that big a deal.

"Are we ready to do this?" B's version of my voice sounds a little thin. Guess the drug is hitting her already.

"Nearly." To my surprise, it's the new girl that answers. She blushes when all eyes turn to her. "After my mom stole my body, I did a lot of research into this kind of magic."

She carries on, talking about the three different kinds of 'trans-possession', but my mind's not on her explanation. I'm watching Willow, who's doing her best to fade out of sight. I figured the witchy deal was her territory.

"So we know this case was the result of a Katra of some sort." New girl; Amy; says. "Probably a Draconian Katra." She glances at me, and I shrug.

"I wouldn't have a clue. It was silvery."

She nods,

"Almost certainly Draconian. Easy enough to reverse. Willow and I can do it here . . . should only take half an hour or so."

"Before we start . . ." Willow speaks up for the first time, sounding nervous. "There's something else. The Mayor may still be alive."

"The Mayor?" Xander raises an eyebrow, "Pretty sure he went boom, Will."

Red shakes her head,

"I asked Amy, and she said it was possible –"

"Possible doesn't mean 'is'." Buffy interjects, "If were alive, he would have tried something by now."

"That does seem likely." Giles nods in agreement.

"Not necessarily." Give her credit, Willow sticks to her guns. "It would take him time to build up his strength again. He's lost his power-base. Faith-"

"Faith?" Buffy cuts her off with a scornful laugh, "Faith told you this? And you believed her? She's playing you, Will. Again."

"I think she was telling the truth." Red insists, while I silently will her to stop. It's not gonna do her any good: B ain't listening.

"This spell." B directs her attention to Amy. "Does it need both of you?"

"Well, no." the girl looks surprised by the question. "I could do it alone . . ."

"I think that would be best." Buffy nods. "It being your speciality. Don't want anything to go wrong."

"That's out of line, Buffy." Xander shoots to his feet, as I watch Red's face crumble. "Willow would never intentionally do anything to hurt you."

"I never said she would." B's tone is hard. "I just thought that, if she is so worried about the Mayor, she should concentrate on researching a spell to locate him."

"Like hell -" Xander begins.

"It's okay." Willow cuts in, her voice miserable. "It's okay, Xander." She swings open the front door and runs out.

Xander calls after her, then glares at B,

"I hope you're happy." He snaps, then goes after Red.

----------

After a few moments of silence, Giles closes the front door, a grim expression on his face.

"Now that . . . unfortunate incident . . . is out of the way." He shoots a genuine glare at B, but she's digging in her pocket for something, and doesn't notice. "Perhaps we can get on with this?"

"Just a second." B leaps to her feet and unfolds a piece of paper. "I need to make a call."

She picks up Giles' phone without asking, and punches the numbers rapidly. After a few seconds of waiting, she speaks.

"Thirty minutes."

Without waiting for an answer, she hangs up, giving me a smug glance as she does so. I guess that means the Council are on their way.

"Let's get started." She nods to Amy, who jumps a little.

"Um. I'll need you and, uh, Faith to sit facing one another, clasping hands."

"Great." B mutters, then frowns as Xander's girl stands up. "Where are you going?"

"To find Xander." The girl tilts her head stubbornly.

"Sit. Down." B points at the chair, and the girl subsides reluctantly. Buffy gestures at me, "Get her untied, will you, Riley? Don't worry, she's harmless at the moment."

That makes me think about giving college boy a quick knee in the groin as he leans over me, but I don't bother. It's B who needs a good thrashing, not him.

Amy gets us sitting cross-legged on the floor, our hands 'clasped'. That amounts to B touching me as little as she can get away with, a situation I am happy to assist.

The ritual starts, and it's pretty much like the others I have seen: funky foreign words, lots of slow, dramatic gestures, and those smelly incense candles that always make my eyes water.

This goes on for ten minutes, as Amy prepares a bowl of some weird-lookin' green stuff. She's just about to smear some of it on Bs face when the front door bursts inward.

"Freeze! Everybody down!" Cops are pouring into the place, guns out, yelling and shouting. One grabs Beefstick and wrestles him to the ground, while B and I get two apiece. I try to fight back, yelling abuse as they flip me onto my face and snap some handcuffs on, but without my slayer strength I never have a prayer. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the same happening to B. She's just as helpless as me, and almost as foul-mouthed about it.

"What on Earth is going on?" I hear Giles protest, just before one of the cops forces him to his knees.

Within seconds, it's over. I always figured Sunnydale PD to be slow and useless, but the only one of us who even put up a struggle was Beefstick, and all that earned him was a nice bruise to the side of his face.

So far, all the cops have been uniformed. The guy who comes in now is a detective, and it's obvious from the way the others act that he's in charge. Walking straight up to me, he says quietly,

"Buffy Summers, I am hereby arresting you for the murder of Tara Maclay."

----------

"What?" Giles sputters, "That's ridiculous!" I guess he forgot that as far as the cops are concerned, I'm Buffy.

"Really, Mr Giles?" the detective flips open a notebook. For some reason, the action doesn't seem natural. "We found Ms Maclay's body within a hundred yards of Ms Summers' home. She'd been brutally murdered: stabbed dozens of times with a kitchen knife. We found the knife in her back yard, and blood-soaked rags in the bin. Forensics are going over the kitchen now, but we've already got prints from both Ms Maclay's body and the knife." He smiles in satisfaction, "and they're a perfect match for the ones we have on file for Ms Summers."

I flick a glance at B, wonderin' why the hell the cops have her prints. She's supposed to be the good girl, here.

"Now, I have no idea what you people were up to in here." the detective continues, picking up the syringe Giles used on B, "but I'm thinking drugs and the occult. We'll need to take you all in for questioning." He puts the syringe back down, and fussily wipes his fingers with a handkerchief.

I frown, looking at the guy's hands. Shouldn't he be wearing gloves? The cops are real big on not disturbing the evidence, aren't they?

And then suddenly, it's not his hands I'm worried about: it's the handkerchief he's tucking back into his pocket. And what it might mean.

He catches my glance, and smiles. A charming, goofball smile.

"Can't be too careful about germs." He says, with a slightly theatrical shudder. "Nasty, unsanitary little creatures."

Oh God.

It's the Mayor.


	8. Chapter 8

**Wearing Masks (Part 8)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) and Buffy (in Faith's) have just been arrested for the murder of Tara Maclay: and the detective arresting them is actually the Mayor.

It takes almost ten minutes for the cops to drag us out to the cars. They search the place to make sure no-one else is around, read us our rights, crap like that. Through most of it, I'm numb. I'd let myself forget about Tara's body; never considered the implications. Not the Mayor, though, he's kept his eye on the ball. Now he has us both, and thanks to my track record, we're probably both going to be locked up 'til we're forty. No wonder he's looking smug. There'll be no Slayer around to spoil his next big scheme.

"Don't sweat it, Faith." B flinches when I call her by my name. "I'll keep you warm on the cold prison nights." I know baiting her is stupid, but it's how I deal.

B scowls, but doesn't answer. Guess as far as she's concerned, this is just another fine mess I've got her into.

"Let's get these young ladies to the car." The Mayor nods to the two cops watching us, and they drag us to our feet.

"Hey! Watch the hands, creep!" Buffy yelps. I can't help but smirk. What does she expect, when she's wearin' one of those short skirts she digs so much? And in my body, too.

The cops haul us outside. I don't bother to struggle. B's body weighs maybe a hundred pounds, and that's with boots on. The gorilla who has hold of my arm is over twice that.

Of course, he's just as intimidated by the business end of a sub-machine gun as I am, which is exactly what's waiting for us, outside.

"Back away from the girls." There are two of them, and the one on the left does the talking. Strong British accent, decked out all in black. Doesn't take an Einstein to figure that two plus guns equals 'Council'. They musta decided to turn up to B's party a little early.

"You're making a mistake." The Mayor is caught in the doorway, just behind us. He looks pissed, but he doesn't try anything. Guess this new body is vulnerable, too. Something to remember, if I live long enough for it to matter.

"Let the girls go, and back away." Left-hand guy repeats, slowly. After a nod from the Mayor, the cops do as he says, and the other Council guy steps in to prod us toward one of the cop cars. They work well together, never getting in one another's way.

"Wait . . . my friends are -" B protests, looking back at the apartment. That earns her silent guy's elbow in the face. My jaw aches in sympathy, but I keep my head down. Looks like they think she's me, at least for the moment.

"In." the Council guy speaks for the first time, shoving us into the back of the waiting car. Then he covers his buddy while he backs up to the car. They work it smoothly, one of them covering the two cops and the Mayor at all times. The second guy slides into the passenger seat only after the car is started and ready to go, and they take off at high speed, leaving the cops to fumble for their guns.

We've barely cleared the block when B pipes up again,

"We have to go back! They've got my friends!"

"Shut it." The guy in the passenger seat doesn't even bother to look back through the security grill. "We were told to pick you up, and that's all we're doing."

"Very smooth you were too, guys." I smirk. They're gonna kill me anyway, so I may as well stir 'em up while I can, "Did the Council give up that whole 'secrecy' deal they used to be so keen on? Maybe we could get buttons that say 'I slay Vampires. Ask me how.'?"

"Put a zip in it, Summers."

"I'm Summers!" B yelps, "She's . . ." her expression gets puzzled. Yeah. Never bothered to find out my surname, did ya, B? Best of friends, us. "She's Faith."

"That's me." I don't see the point of lying, "A ten-gallon gal in a pint-sized body."

"Pint-sized!" trust B to get side-tracked by that, "at least I'm in good condition, flabby!"

I shrug,

"Eight months in a hospital bed ain't so good for the muscle tone, B."

That shuts Little Miss Self-Righteous up. At least for a couple of seconds.

"Come on, guys." She whines, "We need to go back for my friends . .. ."

"I don't think you understand, Summers." The guy turns to look at us for the first time, and there's a grin on his face like a kid pulling wings off flies, "This isn't a rescue mission. This is a capture. You're both going back to England for re-education."

For a long second, B is deathly silent. Then she's screaming and thrashing in the back seat, using words I had no idea she even knew. Me, I laugh. I can't help myself.

I'm still chuckling thirty minutes later, when the first seizure slams through my body.

----------

I arch my back and scream as the pain rips through me. I'm no stranger to getting hurt. I've broken bones, been all but gutted, and fallen damn near far enough to kill anyone. But this is nothing like that. This feels like my blood itself is on fire, and every beat of my heart triggers a new wave of agony.

"Jesus!" I can hear Buffy yelling and shouting as she tries to get as far from me as possible. It's the first sounds she's made since she ran out of abuse for the Council freaks, and her voice is still raw and ragged.

"Quit it!" one of the freaks hammers on the security grill, but I'm barely aware of it. Instead, I'm concentrating on the way that the handcuffs are cutting my wrists, because that's about the least painful thing happening to me right now.

Then the second wave slams through me, and it's even worse. I could swear I black out from the pain for a few seconds. I definitely get a nosebleed: I can taste the blood as it drips down to my mouth. The pain is completely unbearable.

And then it stops.

I sag forward in the seat, gasping for breath. My whole body feels slick with sweat. Only now does the Council stooge stop hammering on the grill, giving a grunt of satisfaction. What, he thought I could fake something like that?

I don't know what just hit me, but the pain fades quickly. Much faster than it ought to, in fact. I slump backwards and breathe deeply through my mouth, since my nose is clogged with blood. Despite what just happened, I feel pretty good. Better than I should. Better than I have since the picnic on the lawn.

A few seconds later, the other shoe drops. I always was a little slow at school.

Blind luck has put me behind the driver's seat, and I take the opportunity with both hands. Or in this case, both feet.

Before anyone can react, I plant my boots against the security grill, brace myself in the seat, and thrust with both legs. The grill tears free and slams into the back of the driver's head, slamming it onto the steering wheel. The car slides out of control, smashing into a wall. Both Council guys crash headfirst into the windscreen, though their safety belts stop 'em from flying through it. In the back, I get tossed around a little, but it's nothing a slayer can't handle. B manages to land on me, which ain't entirely unpleasant. There's a thought: getting pelvic with your own body.

"Sorry." I grin into her surprised face, then rap my forehead against hers. It leaves me seeing stars, but her unconscious, which was entirely the point.

I don't know how I got my slayer powers back, but I do know how I hope it happened. And a certain red-haired witch looms large in those hopes.

I push open the door, then stagger out. With some space to move, I manage to hook my legs over my wrists, getting the handcuffs in front of me. From there, it ain't too hard to snap the chain between them. I can't lose the cuffs themselves, but this will do for a start.

Working fast, I haul the two Council guys out of the car and smash their guns. It's tempting to keep at least one, but I don't really know how to use it. Plus, I'm not a hundred percent certain if B has her powers back or not, and I wouldn't want her to grab the thing off me. One of them is carrying a stake, though, so I do take that. And about four hundred bucks from their wallets. Looks like these guys get a much better wage than us Slayers.

Despite the crumpled fender and bodywork, the car's engine coughs into life first time, and I swing it out onto the road, B's body laid out on the seat behind me. For a moment, I sit there with the nose pointing eastward, willing myself to hit the gas. I can drive for an hour and dump B: even I'm not bitch enough to leave her for the Council boys to find when they wake up.

All I have to do is drive away. Move on, the way I've spent my whole life doing. It should be getting easier, with all this practice. But it's not.

I curse and swing the car back toward Sunnydale.

----------

It takes Buffy ten minutes to wake up. Or at least, ten minutes before she sits up and glares at me. I'm pretty sure she spent the two before that trying to break out of her handcuffs.

"Still just an ordinary mortal, huh, B?"

"Screw you." B growls as I glance at her in the rear mirror, then peers at the road. "Where are you taking me?"

"Little place called Sunnydale." I play with one of my cuffs like it's a bracelet, "I gotta say the bondage look works on you, B –"

"Sunnydale?" she sounds surprised.

"You remember it." I say lightly, "Great weather, shame about the demons? Little matter of some captured friends we have to rescue?"

"We?"

"Well, me, really. Since I'm the only Slayer on deck at the moment."

"Why?" the distrust is clear in her tone, "You've got nothing to gain from going back."

I shrug.

"I want my own damn body back. Besides, the Mayor is just as pissed at me as he is at you."

As far as it goes, that's the truth. There's more to it, of course, but there's also no way in hell that I'd let B know that.

"The Mayor?" she laughs, "You're not still going on with that story you fed Willow, are you? I'm not buying it, Faith."

"Ask me if I care." I take the Sunnydale exit too fast, and wrestle the car back under control as Buffy yelps in the back seat. "You're strictly a spectator on this trip, anyway."

----------

With no better place to start, I head straight to the Sunnydale PD, parking the car in an alleyway two blocks from the station.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Buffy tries to open her door as I search the car for any extra weapons. I've used a stake on a human once. It's not something I want to repeat. There's a night-stick and a good hefty flashlight, but that's it.

"Stay put." I push the door closed just as she finally gets it open. "You'll only get in the way."

"Like hell! I've killed vampires without my powers. I can handle a bunch of cops."

"Did the vampires have guns?"

That shuts her up. But only for a moment. Then she pipes up, again.

"They're my friends. I have to try."

Screw it. It's her funeral. I can get used to this body, if I have to.

So I snap the chain on her cuffs and hand her the night-stick. She'll need it more than I will. Then we head up to the station, sticking to the shadows as we go. B keeps up okay, but she's breathing pretty hard by the time we get there.

"Damn." It only takes one look at the station for a prickle to go down my spine.

"What is it?" she peers past me, her night-vision not as good as mine. I wonder if that's an effect of the drug, or if my body just got short-changed.

"There's a body just inside the foyer." A normal human wouldn't see it unless they were within a few feet. "And there aren't enough lights on. Mayor must have called in some reinforcements."

"Not this shit about the Mayor again –"

I spin, slamming Buffy back against the wall, my stake raised high. She opens her mouth to scream, and I slap my hand over her lips. The little bitch promptly sinks her teeth into me, and I have to bite back a yelp of my own.

The two people who were creeping up behind us leap back nervously, but have the presence of mind to keep quiet. I relax, then wait until I'm sure B's seen them before I take my now bleeding hand off her mouth.

"Hi guys."

Xander nods. Willow, for some reason, is too busy staring at my hand to respond.

"Guys?" B looks confused. There's a surprise. "What's going on?"

"In a nutshell?" Xander raises an eyebrow, "The Mayor you said was dead took everyone to the Station to lock them up, then called in a bunch of vamps to keep watch. Seems he didn't feel the Sunnydale PD was up to the task. I'm really hoping someone has a plan, here."


	9. Chapter 9

**Wearing Masks (Part 9)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) and Buffy (in Faith's) have just escaped from the Council and returned to Sunnydale in order to battle the Mayor. Unfortunately, only Faith is in possession of her Slayer powers.

Xander's direct. Gotta give him that. B looks like a rabbit that's about five seconds from being road kill. Guess having your nearest and dearest sidin' with the Psycho Slayer isn't too easy to cope with.

"Not that I'm gonna complain or nothin', but how did you guys know where to find us?" I figure it's time to get our minds back on the game. And I'm hoping that it'll get Willow to talk. She's still silent, still lookin' at my hand like she wants to check it's okay.

My mind's tellin' me to ignore it. To keep my distance. To deal and move on. To run away. But I've had a lifetime of running away, and it's never got me jack shit. So for once, I decide to be brave. Of course, it's easy to take risks when you've probably got ten minutes left to live.

"Don't sweat it, Will." It's the first time I've ever called her that, and she notices, her eyes flicking up to meet mine. I show her the hand, "See? Healing up already."

She nods, still silent, and I know it's gonna take more. So when she looks up again, I cup her cheek with my good hand and kiss her. I kiss her the way she kissed me, this morning. I kiss her the way that means something.

When our lips part, I sneak a glance at the others. B's lookin' away, but Xander's doing enough watchin' for both of 'em, anyway.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Harris." I smirk to take the sting out of it, then raise an eyebrow. "So? How did you guys work out what was up?"

Xander sees the chance for innuendo at the same time I do, but for a change he does nothing more than quirk his eyebrow.

"After I left Giles' place I found Will in the courtyard. It took me about five minutes to calm her down –" here he shoots a glance at B, who actually flinches, "and then I offered her a lift home, since Sunnydale streets aren't as safe as we all might like. We'd barely got a block away when four patrol cars drove past us, heading toward the apartment block." He shrugs, "That seemed odd, so I pulled over and we watched them turn in at Giles'. When we saw that, we snuck back and watched as they burst in on you guys. They left two guys outside; to stop anyone who got out the door, I guess; but instead they got jumped by the Council guys." He gestures in a vague suggestion of a fistfight, "And you saw what happened when you came out."

Willow takes up the story,

"When you guys got split from the others, I told Xander to follow them, and call me at Giles' when he knew where they were being taken. He wanted to go after you, but I had an idea about how to help you –"

"And she rightly pointed out that the Council guys would spot me and kick my ass." Xander adds with a grin. Willow ignores the interruption.

"I went into Giles' place and used the blood I'd gathered from . . .. Faith . . . to cast a purification spell on you. Like how Amy's mom used your bracelet to cast a spell on you." She looks at Buffy, who nods. Musta been before my time. Or maybe after.

"I'd hoped the spell would affect you both." She admits, looking down at her hands, "but I guess not." She glances up at me, shyly. "Thank you for coming back."

"No big." I shrug, not sure how to show how much what she did means to me. Even if it did hurt like hell. "I wanted my own body back. Which reminds me . . . d'you dig brunettes, Red?"

She stammers, blushing, and I give her a grin to show that I'm teasin'.

"Can we get back to saving our friends?" B asks in a tight voice, not looking at either of us.

"Yeah." I grimace when I realise my voice sounds guilty. Probably because I'd almost forgotten the whole 'saving the day' part of this little gathering.. "You're our magic expert, Red. Any idea how to stop the Mayor? I could kill his body, but that doesn't do any good."

Willow nods,

"I asked Amy about it when we were working out how to swap you and Buffy back. The Mayor is using the most versatile kind of possession. It allows him to move from body to body, given time. But it has weaknesses . . . for example, he can't displace the soul of the body's owner, merely suppress it. And when he moves out of the host, say to occupy a new one, he is vulnerable."

"I can stake him?"

"No." she shakes her head at me, "He's only vulnerable to the thing that killed his body."

I'm about to ask what that is, when I remember the shell of the High School, still in ruins even now.

"We have to blow him up?"

"More or less." I swear, Willow's all but grinning. Guess a little of the pyromaniac lurks within her. "Fire should do the trick."

"Can we kill him without harming the body he's in?" B speaks up for the first time. It's a good question: vamp bonfires are kinda fun, but I don't fancy turning a human being into charcoal. I think I could, if I had to, but I'm glad I won't have to put it to the test: Red nods in reply.

"Amy knows a spell that will force him out of his host. She was going to teach it to me, as well, but we never got time."

"So we need to free Amy. Even then, couldn't he just possess someone else?" B's good at this planning crap, ain't she?

"Not immediately." Willow shakes her head, "Leaving a host is usually done slowly, and with care. It takes time. Getting forced out like this will leave him disoriented for a few seconds."

"Which is when I barbeque him." I grin, then see Buffy open her mouth to object. "You have to leave the Mayor to me, B. Him and the vamps. It's up to you three to free this Amy chick. I'll distract them while you do that, then toast the Mayor." A thought occurs to me, "What are we gonna use to set him on fire?"

"That's where I come in." Xander grins and points down the street, "My car's a couple of blocks back. I got a couple of cans of gas at the all night station. It's not subtle –"

I nod,

"But it'll get the job done."

----------

The boss was never happy about having to use vampires as muscle. Too many of them are cocky, or stupid, or both. That was why he was so pleased to get a Slayer on his side. That and the fact that I could move around in daylight, wherever he wanted.

My point is, that no matter how picky you are when it comes to hiring vampires, you're gonna get some dead wood: some cub who thinks he's the next Angelus. When you've been doing this as long as B and I have, you get to recognise the type.

Buffy points, and I nod in agreement. The boss has three vamps in the lobby of the police station, watching out for us. They're lurking in the shadows, but one of them has just lit a cigarette. Maybe he figures on being the next William the Bloody. Moron.

"I'll go in and dust these three." I whisper. "Then you bring in the others."

Buffy nods silently. She's not pretending to like having me in charge, but at least she isn't bitching about it. That's better than I would probably do, in her place.

I 'sneak' up to the front entrance, making sure the vampires will see me. Pushing the doors open, I step inside, carefully looking away from where the vamps are hiding. Sure enough, they leap out: expecting an easy kill.

Cancer-boy explodes into dust before any of them even realises that I'm expecting them. The second follows straight after. Number three, either luckier or smarter than his pals, turns to run. Lucky for me he isn't smart enough to yell for help. I grab the hem of his jacket and yank him back toward me, burying the stake in his heart.

It's over fast, but more importantly, it's over quietly. The longer we can go without the Mayor knowing we're here, the better. I wave to the others, and they run up to the doors, Buffy and Willow at the front; Xander behind them, carrying the two cans of gas.

I grab the cans from him as he stumbles inside, and nod toward the doors leading out of the lobby.

"I'll go through first and attract their attention. Once things are really busy, the three of you come through. The cells are off to the left." I smile slightly and silently thank Sunnydale PD for running me in a couple of times for fighting. It was always fun to see 'em squirm when I phoned the Mayor to bail me out. The smile fades quickly: somehow it's not as funny anymore. "I figure that's where he'll have the others. Can you deal with the locks, Red?"

"No problem. I have spirit fingers." She wiggles them playfully.

"There may be a vamp or two on guard: I hope to hell the three of you can handle them."

Silently, Willow raises the two bottles of holy water she is carrying. They all have them: plus a stake each. Xander had a full anti-vampire arsenal in the trunk of his car. I'm beginning to see why B has been so successful.

Pity it took me so long to work it out. Once, I could have been a part of it. But not any more.

----------

I slam against the wall, hard. The two vamps holding my arms haul me back and then throw me forward again. I manage to twist enough that I hit with my shoulder first, not my head, but I've got bruises on bruises and it still hurts like hell.

Things started out so well, too: I burst into the place, slapped the two cans of gas down on the counter, and staked the first vampire before anyone realised I was there. Unfortunately, that's about where my luck ran out.

The second vamp was just a fraction smarter or quicker than the average, and my stake didn't take him in the heart, but in the shoulder. I'd hit him with everything I had, and he was flung backward over the counter: taking my stake with him, and knocking one of the cans on to the floor.

I had more than one stake, of course, but as I went to grab it one of the others charged me. I got knocked backwards, but would have been okay if my feet hadn't slipped from under me.

I hit the ground hard, wonderin' what the hell had happened, when the stink of gasoline hit me. Seems the cans Xander used weren't the toughest, and gas was leaking from a split in the side of the one that fell off the counter.

Normally, I can flip to my feet in a split second, but the gas meant I couldn't get a proper grip on the floor, and by the time I got up; my clothes and hair stinking of the stuff; two of the other vamps were ready to start introducin' me to the wall, and four more, plus the Mayor, were on their way.

One of the vamps tries to shift his grip, grabbing at skin that's slick with gas. His hand slips, and I seize my chance, twisting hard out of the other vampire's grasp. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Red and the others disappear down the corridor to the cells. At least that part of the plan is working right.

I grab my spare stake and dust the vamp to my left, then get hammered back against the wall by one of the newcomers. It's not that he meant to do it, it's just that I can't catch a damn break. I crack him in the face with my forearm, then drive the stake into his heart, but it's all a fraction too slow.

The three others pile in, and it's four on one in close quarters, our feet slippin' on the wet floor and me getting dizzy from the fumes. Maybe that's why I'm a little slower than I need to be, or maybe I'm just out of practice, but two of them grab me just as I dust one of their buddies. I try to tear free and almost do.

Almost.

The third pulls a knife and slams it into my gut.

----------

I black out for five, maybe ten seconds. When I come to, the vamps are still holding me near the wall. My gut feels like it's on fire, but my head is numb and cold. The Mayor is standing about twenty feet away, shaking his head regretfully.

"I never thought my Faith would be the romantic hero type." He sounds mildly disapproving, almost like I'm not here to kill him. "Taking us all on alone. What were you thinking?"

"Not quite alone."

I twist my head sharply, feeling dizzy for a moment, but I fight it down.

B stands at the entrance to the corridor to the cells, a slight smile on her face, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Well isn't this cosy?" the Mayor exclaims, "Two slayers for the price of one."

"Cosy?" B shrugs, "Actually, I thought the place could do with warming up."

She pulls her hands from behind her back, and I catch sight of the lighter and the rag at the same time everyone else does. The flame of the lighter licks the cloth, and it catches alight instantly; must have been soaked in gas.

Then she throws the rag toward us, and we all remember where we're standing.


	10. Chapter 10

**Wearing Masks (Part 10)**

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) and Buffy (in Faith's) are locked in battle with the Mayor. Unfortunately, only Faith is in possession of her Slayer powers.

Notes 2:I'd like to say a quick 'thank you' to my beta-readers, Anne and Sean.

The vamps let go. Thank Christ, they let go.

The burning rag lands silently in the spreading pool of gasoline. There's only a whisper of sound as the gas ignites, blue flames racing across the floor. I hurl myself backward, but even with my reflexes I feel the heat wash over my boots and jeans, fire catching in the gas-stained denim.

Only one of the vampires gets out in time. The other two, far more flammable than me, are roasted in moments.

I hit a dry bit of the floor and roll, hearing a hollow bang as the can on the floor goes off in a miniature explosion, throwing burning gas and twisted metal around the room. Something hits my arm, but not hard enough to do any more than sting.

I keep rolling, grabbing at a jacket someone left slung over the back of a chair. The chair falls, but the jacket comes free, and I use it to smother the small flames still burning on my jeans. I'm really wreckin' B's wardrobe, here.

I nearly scream as I come to my feet, and I have to fight down the urge to black out. The gash in my stomach hurts like hell and I am damn tired of people trying to gut me. Since when did vamps start carrying knives, anyway? About the only consolation is that B's gonna end up with a bitchin' scar, just like mine.

There's only one vampire left standing, and I go for him fast, before the wound makes me any weaker. Out of the corner of my eye I see B head for the Mayor, who has been keeping well outta harm's way, so far. Without her powers, she's gonna be in trouble if they actually tangle. I just hope the Mayor buys her bluff and keeps backing off.

Then the vampire's leaping at me, swinging punches at the bloody wound on my side, and I'm far too busy to worry about B. I just hope Willow's okay.

This vamp is tougher than the average; no surprise, really, since he's the last one standing; and I'm not at the top of my game. I get a good blow into his face, but take an elbow in the gut to do it. For a moment, the pain's so bad that it feels like my whole body's gonna shut down. But instinct takes over, and I push him back, opening up a little space.

There are small fires all over the room, by now. A lot of the gas has burned off, but there's enough wood and cloth around that the flames have caught. I guess that's a good thing for us, when it comes to killing the Mayor, but it's also filling the room with smoke, which is gonna slow me down a lot more than the vamp I'm fighting.

We lunge into the fight again, swinging fists and knees and elbows. I know I need to take him down fast, but he knows it too, and he's fighting smart. Pain and smoke are making me just that little bit slower than usual, and it's getting worse. All he has to do to win is stay alive a little longer. I know it, and I can see from his face that he does, too.

What he doesn't know is how far I'm willing to go to win. I plunge forward, grabbing at his jacket. The move leaves me wide open, and he jabs a fist into my gut. Pain hammers through me, and my knees buckle, but that's okay: I just have to make sure my hands stay clenched.

B's body doesn't weigh all that much, but I'm betting that having it suddenly hang off you while you're off-balance is a rude surprise. Sure enough, the vamp topples, and we both crash to the ground. It hurts like hell, but I knew it was coming.. That gives me an edge, and I recover slightly faster than fang-boy. I swing my weight, rolling him sideways while he's still surprised. Heat washes over my back, and then I roll again.

Straight into a fire.

----------

The vamp beneath me lasts just long enough to howl with pain, and then he's nothing more than burning ash in my hands. I throw myself out of the flames, fighting back my own screams. I'm a mess, and there isn't a part of me that doesn't hurt, but I stagger to my feet, ignoring the pain flaring in my freshly burned hands.

I'm just in time to see the Mayor grab B and throw her backward. I guess he figured it was a bluff, after all. B hits the floor and skids along it, nearly slamming into a desk. I start forward, I'm too far away: without either of us close enough to keep him under pressure, the Mayor thrusts a hand inside his coat and drags out a gun.

This is not good.

I freeze. B, halfway through standing up, does the same. The Mayor smiles, but it's a little tight, a little forced.

"You know, girls." He says brightly, his eyes cold, "I really don't care for violence. It's so . . . crude. But honestly, you leave me no choice."

I gauge the distance between us, figurin' whether I can get to him before he blows me away. The answer ain't good. Even if I was at full strength, it would be risky, and I'm a long way from my best.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to get your powers back this fast." He keeps the gun trained on me, apparently confident that B isn't a threat. "Though I did think you'd come back with your Council friends, so I guess that balanced out quite nicely." He shrugs, "I'd hoped to avoid shooting you. The paperwork is really quite tiresome, I understand. But with a little help, I rather think this fire you started could neatly destroy the evidence." He nods at the second can of gas, which is still safely sitting on the counter.

"You didn't get what you wanted though, did ya?" I manage to answer his smile with a smirk of my own. "You won't get Red, now."

"No matter. There are other ways of getting into the Watcher's Council."

B and I simply stare at him, stunned, and he chuckles.

"The Council?" B blurts at last.

"Indeed." He nods, "They've had their eyes on your young friend for a while. Once I had her body, it would have been child's play to enter their ranks. Within ten years, I could have been one of their most senior members."

"I don't get it." I shrug, "What have the Council got that you couldn't get as Mayor?"

"Why, the Slayer, of course." He smiles brightly, "Working with you was a pleasure, Faith, but when it came down to it, you weren't good enough. You never were."

He's deliberately taunting me, and I fight down a wave of anger. It's easier than I expected: probably because I'm started to feel numb from the blood loss.

"So you figured that sooner or later a new Slayer would be called .. . ." B says slowly, "What then?"

"Oh, it could have been you, my dear." The Mayor waves his free hand, "No need for anyone to die. It's not just your friend's magical skills that interest the Council, you see. They thought recruiting her as a Watcher would help them to bring you back into the fold, so to speak."

"You were going to be my Watcher?" B looks sick. Can't say I blame her.

"Exactly." He shrugs, "Of course, I'll need a new plan, now. But it's time to end this little chat."

He sights the gun carefully at my chest. I try desperately to think of some way to distract him; something I can say to delay things a little longer; but I'm comin' up blank.

The gun goes off, and there's a scream.

----------

It's the Mayor who screams, his hand jerking as he fires. The bullet whines over my head as he staggers backward, his body convulsing. The gun goes off a second time, blowing the corner off of a desk, but by then I am running for the can of gas, trying to ignore the burning in my gut.

I haul the can off the counter just as the Mayor convulses again, reddish smoke now streaming from his mouth and eyes. I rush forward, barely glancing at the corridor to the cells, where Willow and Amy now crouch, the latter feverishly casting the spell to force the Mayor from his stolen body.

Suddenly, the stream of smoke stops, and the detective's body tumbles backward, leaving the cloud coiling and pulsing in mid-air. It seems chaotic, and disorganised, though I can almost see the Mayor's distorted features in it.

Xander and B appear out of nowhere, dragging the detective's body toward the door as I spin the top from the can of gas and dump the whole thing on the floor under the cloud. There's no time for finesse, so we'd better hope good old brute force works. Gasoline glugs steadily out of the can as I back away quickly.

I nearly trip over a wastebasket, curse loudly, and then notice that the contents are burning nicely. With a grin, I snatch it up; ignoring the heat of the metal on my sore hands; and hurl it toward the Mayor.

I don't know what I expected to happen when the flames roared up around him. Maybe for him to dissolve, with a squeal of "I'm melting!". What I didn't expect is what actually happens.

The red smoke ignites in a sudden fireball, flames rushing to every corner of the room. I hit the ground and cover my head, hoping the others were too far away for the flames to reach them. Heat washes over my back, but the flames don't come down far enough to reach me. Instead, they blow several panels out of the ceiling, reaching up into the roof.

I stagger to my feet, seeing the others do the same, and then all of us plunging out of the building with the fire on our heels, stumbling tiredly to the far side of the street, B and Xander still carrying the unconscious detective.

That's about when I pass out.

----------

"You can't be serious." B glares at the Detective, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Completely." He says mildly, "After all, most of our evidence was destroyed when the station burned down four days ago. Besides, what we did have all pointed to you killing Ms Maclay. I can't very well arrest your friend for that."

"She's not my friend." Buffy snaps, glaring at me. We're back in our own bodies at last, but B doesn't like me any better for it. "Besides, she did plenty of other things in her own body. You could arrest her for those."

"Again," the Detective's voice grows tight, "any evidence we might have held was destroyed in the fire." I'd be willing to bet he's lying, and I think B knows it, but for some reason the guy seems to like me. Must be that whole saving-him-from-evil-possession thing.

"You're just protecting her because you think she saved your life." Looks like I was right about B seeing the lie. "She didn't do it for you, she did it to protect her own ass."

"Maybe." The Detective shrugs, "But even if I did arrest her, how long do you think we could hold her?"

When B doesn't have a ready answer for that, he turns and walks away. I try not to look too smug, but I don't try all that hard.

"You're not going to get away with this, Faith." She warns, her eyes slitted.

"If you're so worried about me getting' away with it, why don't you kill me?" I return her glare, "I may have my powers back, but we both know you're stronger and faster than I am at the moment. And we both know why. You put me in an eight-month coma, B. You got what it takes to take it a step further?" I soften my voice, "You got what it takes to be me?"

For a long moment, she's silent, and then her mouth firms.

"Just get out. I never want to see you again."

----------

It's been three months since I left. Three months since I took off back to Boston, leaving Willow Rosenberg with nothing more than a note to remember me by. That was rough on her, but I figured it would be best. I'd already done what I could to avoid her in the four days it took for B to kick me out of Sunnydale, because this way she could move on. At first, I started it with 'Will', but then I crossed that out and used the name that was mine.

Red,

B wants me out of town. Can't say I blame her.

So, I'm bailing. Heading back to the East Coast.

I guess I won't see you again. That's probably best.

It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over, y'know?

Faith.

Cold as ice, that's me. Use 'em and lose 'em. Of course, it woulda helped if I wasn't fightin' back tears as I wrote it. I was stupid to let her get to me the way she did. Stupid to think that I could make something like that work. When B told me to go, I knew it was over. I wanted to believe Red cared, but I figured there was no way she would choose me over all her friends. No way at all. It's funny; you'd think I would remember something I'd thought only a few days before . . .

# I shoulda remembered that night in City Hall, when she stood up to every threat I could sling at her. It never pays to underestimate Willow Rosenberg. #

I'm patrolling down by the river, near the Harvard Business School, when I see her sitting on a bench, watching the water go by.

My breath catches, and I almost turn and run. Then her head turns, and she looks right at me, and I know she's been waiting.

"Hey . . . " I manage, pitifully, while still wondering how my feet carried me to her. I don't remember telling them to.

"Hi." She seems composed, confident, and stands to face me.

"What . . . How . . . " I don't even know what it is I want to ask.

"I transferred to Harvard." She answers quietly. "At the end of the school year. I've been here nearly a week."

"But . . . why?" I try to get a grip, "B needs you back in Sunnydale –"

"Not anymore." She seems almost pleased by that, "Amy can deal with all the witch-y stuff, and it's not like I need to be there in person to deal with any hacking they might need."

"What about B? She's never gonna accept this -"

"It's not her life." Willow interrupts, then smiles slightly, "And it's been three months. She's had time to get used to the idea that I was leaving. They all have."

"But why did you . . . after I left that note . . ."

She laughs quietly,

"You can't fool a witch that easily, Faith. I could sense what you felt when you wrote it, even without a spell."

"I never could fool you, R-Will."

She smiles and shakes her head, leaning in to kiss me.

"Call me Red."


End file.
